Metal Gear Solid 3: The Patriots
by combobulator
Summary: While on vacation, Snake recieves a phone call from a mysterious stranger. Now, Snake must journey to Manhattan Island, where he will confront the Patriots themselves.
1. A Mysterious Call

Chapter 1: Getting Old

DISCLAIMER: I would like to start off by saying that I do not claim ownership in any way of the characters, places, and/or events Metal Gear Solid and Metal Gear Solid 2. So please don't sue me; I have no money.

A/N: About 2 months ago I started my first fanfic, and it started out okay. Then I got sloppy with it and it ended out horrible. After careful consideration I have decided to try it again. This story will be much better, longer, and more detailed than my previous story. I hope you enjoy what I have written and will try to keep this story updated as often as possible. Thank you and don't forget to review my story when you're done.

            Snake sighed with relief as he plopped down on the warm, leather chair in front of the big screen TV. He set the telephone down on its receiver and picked up the sleek, black remote. Aiming it at the television, he pressed a small red button and sat back in his chair to enjoy a long overdue vacation.

            Snake had attempted a retirement twice before, and had learned they never lasted. His first "retirement" was cut short when he was sent to terrorist output of Zanzibar Land, and he was forced out of retirement once again after being sent against his will to stop REX. No, this was no retirement. Snake was not about to lie to himself again, because he knew the retirement wouldn't last. He knew Liquid was still out there, still out there with RAY, and until Liquid was dead, and Olga's child rescued, Snake would never rest.

            But he sat there anyway, in the hotel room, hoping his vacation would last as long as it could.

            Suddenly, as if doing it deliberately, his relaxation was cut short by a ringing in his ear. He instinctively pressed his finger to his ear and called out hello. Snake waited while the ringing continued before realizing his embarrassing mistake. He quickly put his fingers down by his side as if trying to avoid being embarrassed, though there was no one else around, and picked up the telephone next to him.

            "Hello," he called out.

            "Hello, Solid Snake…" the voice uttered. He couldn't recognize the voice exactly, and yet it sounded vaguely familiar. "How have you been?"

             Snake sat up in his chair alertly. "Who is this?" he asked.

            "Who I am is not important. What's important, is why I'm calling you," the voice said, while ignoring Snake's question.

            "Who is this?" Snake demanded. He stood up from his chair and turned down the volume on the TV.

            "Get out Snake, get out of the building" the voice replied calmly.

            "What are you talking about???" Snake demanded.

            "The clock is ticking Snake," the voice spoke, but this time in a very urgent tone. Snake attempted to respond, but a loud, annoying dial tone gave the signal that the man on the other end had hung up. Snake set the phone down quickly and looked around the room. He ran his fingers through his freshly trimmed, yet still long, hair. What was he to do, should he trust this mysterious caller, questions were popping up in his head faster than a bag of popcorn in hell.

            "Who is it?" he called out.

            "Room service, we have your order," a man replied from behind the door. Judging whether to leave the hotel or to discard the warning, Snake answered the door. He opened the door and a young man in his early 20s wheeled a small cart in. The cart was full of exotic foods and rare dishes. The man unloaded the food onto a dining table. "There you go sir, enjoy your stay on the island," the man said as he held out his hand asking for a tip. On top of the cart were two silver platters covered by a silver lid. Snake took the lid off of one of the platters and placed it in the man's open hand. The man looked down at the small lid, then back up and Snake, who was fighting off a smile. The man set the lid on the table, muttered something under his breath, then left the room.

            Still worried about the alarming call, Snake lifted the lid off of the second platter, only to regret having not taken the caller's advice. At the sight of the small charge of C4 hidden beneath the lid of the silver platter, Snake bolted for the door.

            He darted out the door and into the hall. He crashed into the guy from room service who was slowly walking down the hall. "I see you changed your mind sir," he said as he held his hand back out, but Snake hastily got to his feet and ran down the hall of the hotel. Ahead of Snake at the end of the hall was a window, Snake pumped his legs and ran as fast as he could toward the window, and just as the explosion from his room was set off, Snake soared out of the window. 

            It felt as if he had hit the water below at a million miles per hour. His body soared out of the window and splashed into the hotel pool 5 stories below. He dived into the deepest end of the pool at a tremendous speed and hit the bottom of the pool with a thud. 

            Completely drenched, Snake climbed out of the pool and grabbed the nearest towel. He quickly dried himself off and threw the towel aside.

            "Damn," he exclaimed as usual. That had been a close call, and Snake wasn't about to have anymore. He walked into the hotel still dripping wet, hoping he didn't stand out too much. Just up ahead he could see a guard coming for him, and he knew he'd have to get out of there soon. Slowly at first, then much quicker, he backed up and ran back out to the pool. His head turned from side to side, searching for the nearest and easiest escape, and he found it. He ran towards an open section of the gate and exited onto the busy street.

            Trying to assess the situation in his mind, Snake hurried to the nearest payphone in an attempt to call Otacon, the one person who could help him out. But as he reached for the phone to pick it up, he was alarmed as it began to ring. 

            Looking around in confusion, and reluctantly reached for the phone.

            "Hello?" he asked.

            "Hello again," the voice on the other end replied. It was the same voice he had earlier, the voice who had warned him in the hotel room.

            "You again? What the hell is going on?" Snake demanded impatiently.

            "This phone line is tapped, give me your codec frequency," the voice warned.

            "Who are you?" Snake demanded once again.

            "Your frequency?" he asked again.

            Snake sighed reluctantly before answering, "141.80" "Now what the fuck is going on!!!" he asked loudly. There was no reply, and people from the street were starting to stare. Snake returned the phone to its hook before answering his now ringing codec.

            "What do you want?" Snake shouted.

            "They're coming for you?" the voice replied mysteriously.

            "Who is? What's going on?" 

            "You know, you know what they don't want you to know," the voice called back.

            "What are you talking about?" Snake asked in a harsh voice.

            "I… I feel it would be best to meet with you in person. Meet me in the abandoned parking garage, the one by the old mall down the street, 6:00, and bring the disc"

            "What disc…" Snake started to say, but stopped as the transmission was ended. Snake reached for the phone to call Otacon, but stopped when he remember what that man had said, about the line being tapped. He hurried into an alley and pressed his index finger to his ear.

            "Hello," Otacon's voice answered.

            "Otacon, it's me."

            "What is it, I thought you were on your vacation," Otacon replied worriedly.

            "Yeah, so did I. Something's gone down, I think it has something to do with that disc."

            "Which disc?" Otacon asked. "You mean the one we got from Arsenal Gear?"

            "I think so, someone just contacted me, we're meeting in the parking garage in front of the old Washington Mall at 6:00 today, can you meet me there?"

            "Sure, but why do you need me?" Otacon asked.

            "I want you to stay hidden, and bring a gun, just in case he tries something."

            "You don't think it's…?"

            "A trap? Not sure, but I just want to be safe. Can you get down there in time?" Snake asked Otacon.

            "I don't know. I'm not too far from there now, I think I can make it by at least 5:30."

            "Do you still have the disc?"

            "Of course, I'll bring it with me."

            "Don't forget to make a copy, I think it's best we be as careful as possible. There is a lot of stuff on that disc that could be very dangerous in the wrong hands."

            "Right. Oh, and be safe Snake, don't go getting yourself killed," Otacon said.

            "I won't, you can count on that," Snake replied smiling. He ended the transmission and headed out for the old parking garage, about to embark on yet another adventure. And as he walked down the road towards his destination holding his sore back, hi though to himself, "I'm getting too old for this."


	2. The Stranger

            "Hello Snake," the mysterious voice rang out through the dark, deserted parking garage. "It's nice of you to show up."

            Snake watched as a dark figure stepped out from the shadows. He was dressed in a dark brown trench coat, the hood was up and his face was hidden. "Do you have the disc?" the man asked.

            Snake reached into his pocket and pulled out the disc. He held it up in the air for the man to see before returning it to his pocket. "Who are you?" Snake asked the man.

            "Give me the disc," the man said, ignoring Snake's question. Snake smiled and pulled the disc back out. "Not until you tell me what's going on."

            "They know you have it," the man said, he was obviously talking about the Patriots. "And they'll do anything to get it back."

            "How do I know you're not one of them," Snake replied. Snake could see that the man was about to reply, but he stopped abruptly.

            "Tell your friend to put down his gun," he told Snake referring to Otacon. He drew a gun and pointed it slightly behind Snake. Snake turned around to see Otacon stepping out from behind him. He released his grip as his gun fell to the floor. 

            Who… who are you?" Otacon asked nervously. He slowly walked towards Snake and stood behind him with his hands in the air. 

            The man returned his gun to its holster and continued talking. "There is no use quarreling over this Snake, we both have the same objective, to destroy the Patriots reign. That's why I need your disc. On that disc is the location of the Patriots' headquarters, a location which I need."

            "We've read the disc, the Patriots are dead," Snake said. "All twelve leading members are dead."

            "Snake, give me the disc," the man said holding out his hand. "If I was with the Patriots don't you think you'd be dead by now?"

            Snake looked at Otacon, then at the man standing before him, and held out the disc. The man reached out and grabbed the Snake.

            "Don't worry," Snake said reassuringly to Otacon. "That's not the only copy." Snake turned back to the mysterious stranger who was putting the disc into his coat pocket. The man looked up at Snake.

            "You're free to go now," he said. "I'll contact you when I'm done looking at this."

            "I'm not going until I find out who you are," Snake said, but he was gone. In the blink of an eye the man had disappeared.

            "Hello," Snake said, picking up the phone. Snake sat back in a comfortable leather chair in Otacon's apartment waiting for Otacon to get home from the grocery store. 

            "Snake, it's me," a voice on the other line said. It was Otacon.

            "Otacon, where are you calling from," Snake asked sitting up in the chair.

            "My cell phone. I just got a call from that guy, the one from the parking garage."  This made Snake sit straight up. "Apparently we missed something on the disc. The twelve leading Patriots were replaced a few years after the original twelve's death. They're just as powerful as they ever were Snake."

            "Don't tell me…" Snake said, afraid of what was coming.

            "Sorry Snake, we're gonna have to go in, I've got the exact location of the Patriots' headquarters, it's a huge building complex on Manhattan Island."

            "Damn," Snake exclaimed. "Why always me Otacon? Philanthropy has a lot of members, why must I go?"

            "Because you're the one they want."

            Snake sighed with disappointment. Just knowing he would once again have to return to the battlefield made his body tense up. "When do we leave?" Snake asked giving in to Otacon.

            "I'll give you some time to rest, we should leave in about a week or two. We don't want to give them to much time"

The small screen was fuzzy, like watching a video taken from a hidden camera. Then again, that's what it was. On the screen Snake sat by the warm glow of the TV late at night, awaiting Otacon's arrival. The doorbell rang and Snake got up and approached the door. He opened it slowly to see Otacon standing on the other side. Snake left the room and locked the door behind him, leaving the screen showing nothing but a dark, empty room. With a click the television turned off leaving the twelve men staring at a blank screen.

            "He's on his way here," one of them spoke up. Him and ten others were sitting around a large table, while the twelfth of them sat at the head of the table. 

            "What do you proposed we do sir," said another. The man at the head of the table looked up at him and smiled.

            "Alert the guards, tell them to stay on the lookout for an intruder."

            "Yes sir," he said. He pressed his finger on a small button on an intercom. "ALL UNITS STAY ON ALERT FOR AN INTRUDER" he shouted into the intercom. "SHOOT TO KILL."

            The man at the end of the table put his hand in the air, motioning for the other man to stop. "No, cancel that," he said. "I want him alive."


End file.
